


Untitled WIP - destiel fic

by iimpala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Work In Progress, cas/dean, dean/cas - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iimpala/pseuds/iimpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Super rough working copy of our destiel fanfiction :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Tires sped down the empty highway, the field of vision extending as far as the headlights. Dean was driving, as usual. Sam was reclining in the passenger seat and Cas was leaning back in the backseat. Dean thought he was asleep, but in truth he was gazing at Dean's reflection in the rearview mirror. He loved watching his beautiful eyes reflecting light from the road, but he didn't understand why.  
Dean had the kind of eyes that tell you everything. When Sam was awake and his music on, Dean's deep green eyes would stay steady on the road. Cas didn't know how, but Dean could smile with his eyes. But, after a job, with Sam asleep riding shotgun and the Impala streaking through the night, Dean's eyes would turn to his brother's bulky body. Cas couldn't see them but he knew they were filled with concern - a tired, almost ancient concern, and this filled Castiel with an inexplicable sadness. Cas knew the way Dean's fist would clench on the steering wheel when Sam tied bandages on his wounds and he knew that Dean felt guilty. Cas knew all these things and he hated and loved them because they were so human.  
The only times Cas couldn’t see Dean's beautiful eyes were when they were on him.

 

Cas continued to shyly observe Dean. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. Dean sensed something and glanced up. Cas choked on his breath suddenly as Dean's smoldering gaze met his eyes. He coughed to cover it up. For some reason, he recently found his feelings for Dean growing. Feelings he didn't understand and had never felt before. Dean cleared his throat and spoke.  
“Hey. You're awake." His eyes moved between meeting Cas's gaze in the rearview and the road.

 

“Yes.” said Castiel. “I...” he tore his eyes off Dean and looked out the window at the passing scenery. “I don’t suffer from fatigue, Dean. But sometimes my vessel grows weary.”  
“Yeah, whatever cherub.” Cas cocked his head. Dean’s eyes crinkled and Cas could see him smirking at his own response. Why is it funny? Cas stared for longer and then looked away again.

 

“I think this is it.” Dean leaned forward in the driver’s seat and raised his eyebrows to read a passing sign. The Impala slowed down, its tires rolling over crunching gravel.  
“Sammy.” He smacked his sleeping brother’s shoulders. Sam muttered and swatted his brother away in annoyance. “Dude, seriously. We’re here.”

 

Sam sat up with a grunt and blinked,  
“Okay, okay, I’m up. Jeez.” he croaked, while wiping the sleep away from his left eye and giving Dean a look of pure annoyance. Dean grinned and switched off the ignition. He got out of the car and slammed the door. While the other two got out of the Impala he read off the flickering sign to the motel they had stopped at.  
“Pinus Motel; Heart of Michigan” he snorted and turned to Sam and Cas.  
“I don’t understand why you find this amusing.” Cas said with a questioning look. Sam sighed.  
“Pinus Strobus is the Latin name for the state tree of Michigan.”  
“Yeah, whatever, but come on guys,” Dean laughed,” Pinus. Y’know, peni-”  
“Alright we get it. Now can we please just get a room so I can go back to sleep?” Sam said, becoming more exasperated with his brother, especially because of his fatigue. Dean threw up his hands and walked through the brisk autumn night into the dim yellow light of the front office. The motel looked like all the others, it was on the outskirts of town. Sam took his shoulder bag from the passenger seat through his still open car door and threw it over his arm. He shut the car door leaned against it. Sam and Cas waited for Dean to come back for the room.

“Man, I don’t know. These murders are sounding a lot like witchcraft to me.” Dean shook his head. “The bitches. Always like to get dirty – and not in the way I like.” Dean closed the various newspaper pages he had been holding, each circled in red pen and highlighted profusely.  
“Uh, yeah.” Sam raised his eyebrows questioningly at Dean’s last remark. “Witches, maybe.” He looked back at his laptop screen, eyes scanning local online news.  
“So should we go look for hex bags, or…”  
Sam looked up at his brother who was spreading his legs on a café chair. “Dean. We don’t even know where the vics lived. Shouldn’t we should ask around, check up on the families, talk to the police. Routine stuff?”  
“Right. Sorry. Been kind of distracted lately.” Dean made a small forced smile. “Suit up?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Okay, see you in ten – police department. Where’s Cas, anyway?”  
“I don’t know, around?”

Humming Dire Straits, Dean grabbed a, can of aerosol deodorant off the motel room dresser. He read the label, frowned then sniffed it. Cas appeared suddenly, knocking the can out of Dean’s hands.  
“DAMMIT CAS.”  
“Sorry, Dean.” Cas stood for a while slowly looking around the room in his usual trench coat and slight furrow in his brow, completely disregarding Dean’s alarm. “What is this strange odor?”  
Dean looked annoyed. “Deodorant?” Cas kept staring. “Ever use it?” Cas’s blue eyes kept searching Dean’s face. Dean suddenly felt hot under his gaze.

“Look man, I need to get dressed” Dean said, suddenly realizing that he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Castiel seemed to realized the same thing, also noticing the suit laid out on the bed.  
“Ah, yes, I’ll wait... where should I go?”  
“I don’t know, just go in the bathroom so you don’t scare me shitless when you come back in.”  
Cas nodded and walked into the bathroom swinging the door closed. Dean, having finished mostly getting dressed, except for the untied tie draped around his neck, his shoes, and the jacket to the suit, folded still on the bed, walked over to the bathroom door while tying the tie. He pounded on the door,”Cas, you can come out” he plopped himself on the bed and laced up one of shoes, Cas came out as Dean finished lacing. Dean pulled on his jacket and posed at himself in the mirror.  
Cas cleared his throat, “Where are we meant to meet your brother?” he descretley and without thinking checked Dean out, Dean turned around and Cas’s eyes flitted back to his face.  
“Police station, in a few minutes”  
“We should go now.” Dean shrugged and Cas began walking towards the door.  
Cas accidentally stepped on Dean’s left foot, leaving a streak of dirt along the side of his new fed shoes.  
“Hey watch it buddy.” Dean stepped back and mock dusted off his suit. “Bond, Cas, pure Bond.” Cas vanished and then appeared directly behind him. Dean rolled his eyes and then froze as he felt the angel’s hand on his shoulder. Castiel’s fingers traced the suit’s – black fabric down to Dean’s elbow.  
He nodded. “Bond.” He said it like a kid learning a new vocabulary word. Dean stayed still, with halted breath. He heard a whoosh of wings, and Cas was gone, leaving him alone with the dim lighting and unattractive carpet. He let out his breath and looked out the window, frowning.

Castiel appeared in his heaven.  
He just stood on the pristine lawn, feeling dizzy. He raised his hands and looked down on them. Thoughts swirled in his mind – all of them new, all of them strange and human.

Dean climbed in the Impala and pulled out of the gravelly parking lot, he tried not to think about what had just happened in the motel room. What had happened, really? Nothing. Just Cas being weird again.


	2. Chapter Two

They met at the police station. Dean walked across the street from where he parked the Impala, lifting his chin and straightening his tie. Sam was waiting outside the station at the base of the stairs leading to the entrance of the building, looking disgruntled," Dude, you're late. I've been waiting here for like 20 minutes."

Dean shrugged," What can I say? It pays to look this good." He chuckled at himself for a bit, then his smile melted and he cleared his throat," Alright, let's do this." He began to walk briskly up the stairs. Sam shook his head with a lopsided smirk, then turned and followed his brother into the station.

"Alright." The short, stocky sheriff smacked down a couple of case files on the desk in front of him, using his wheely chair as a form of transport to various places in his office and the station. "Celia Foster and Aiden Johnson. Celia was the unemployed wife of Lewis Foster, an accountant at the tax agency down the street. She was 36, middle class family, she had some family money, nothing special. And our other victim, Aiden here. He had just moved from a little town nearby somewhere, young kid, 20. He's been working small jobs, fastfood fryer, store clerk, that sort of thing. At the time of his "demise" he was working as a delivery man. No strong connections, she was on his mail route, but don't know exactly if that says much."

Sam scratched his chin, "How so?"

"Considering the fact the town is so small there are barely two mail routes. Just his side of the town I suppose. But otherwise they had pretty much no other correlation, except for the way they died of course"

"Right," Dean stood up from the creaky chair placed in front of the sheriff's desk," speaking of, we're going to need to see the bodies." Sam took the case files and slid them under his arm and stood up from his chair next to Dean's.

The Coroner's office was a plain white room, dim, and smelling strongly of disinfectant.  
"Gross." muttered Dean under his breath. Sam nodded quickly in response and then smiled forcefully at the middle-aged woman in a lab coat who had shown them in.

"The bodies are really bizarre. At first glance they look almost normal," the woman explained, "but when we got to the insides - well, see for yourselves." Dean and Sam nodded and glanced at each other. "If you boys don't mind - that is, if you've done this before - you just go ahead; the gloves are in a box over there and you can each grab a coat from the rack. I'll be in the file room."

Dean nodded again more profusely as she walked away. "Man, you gotta love a good coroner."  
"Dean. That sounded really creepy."  
"That sounded really creepy." Dean repeated in agreement looking slightly disturbed. "Shall we?"

Sam opened up the case file and scanned it with concentration. "Okay, well, it says here that victims were found, uh, hanging in trees with one eye and their hearts, uh, missing with no evidence of removal on the outside - so they just vanished"

"Huh." Dean frowned, adjusting his latex gloves. "Let's take a look." He scanned the labels on the refrigerator. "Foster, Celia." The drawer slid open with ease. A white tarp covered the body - an ominous shroud. Dean took a breath and carefully revealed the cold body.

She was pale, like all the other corpses in the morgue.   
Her left eye was missing. The eyelids on that side were pulled open by some surgical tape. The tired pathologist they had spoken to earlier must have forgotten to take it off. There was just a hole, dark brown where once bright scarlet had been shed. Sam winced, "Reminds me of Pamela, when Cas burned her eyes out." Dean sucked in his cheeks,"Yeah. _Not_ a memory I treasure."


End file.
